Despair
by Mad Girl With A Fanfic Account
Summary: What would happen if Loki won the siege against the Earth? How would he punish the ones who made it the hardest? Warning - Some language, VERY dark topics, and character death. A lot of it.
1. Hope is Lost

_**Hope is Lost **_

"You have all made my life _very_ difficult." Loki paced back and forth, then turned to them and gave them a cold smile. "But look at you now! Is this not _simpler_? Easier then fighting such a futile fight?"

"And who can stop me now? The _Avengers_?" Loki laughed. "Look at yourselves. Ever since I killed that awful Fury, you have been weak. You strayed from each other. And that's what made it easy." He turned around to face the camera. "I want everybody to see this. The Avengers Initiative, the people who saved you so many times: unarmed, weak, and helpless."

"Natasha Romanoff." She immediately stopped trying to work her way out of her chains.

"The Black Widow. It took me a while to bring you down. But in some way, it was the easiest. You came right to me when you found out I had _him_." He gave Clint a contemptuous kick, who groaned."You see? Sentiment. Always a weakness."

She glared at him and spat in his face. Loki disappeared and rematerialized up by his throne. "You must learn proper manners, my dear." He nodded to one of the chitauri warriors standing next to her, who hit her across the face. He smiled into her glaring eyes.

"Clint Barton." Clint was by far the worse off of all of them. A remarkable array of burns, cuts and bruises covered his face. He was leaning heavily on his chains, fighting to remain conscious, but still managed a defiant look as Loki walked over to him.

"You were the one who managed to stop the siege on Los Angeles. I must commend you on that. But to what end? You almost died in that battle. We captured you, and the second siege went along as planned." Loki scowled. "You and Natasha were formidable together. I will enjoy torturing the life out of both of you."

"Go.. to… hell." Clint somehow managed to speak despite the slashes across his face. Loki narrowed his eyes. He once more nodded to the chitauri, who hit him across the head so hard he fell forward, unconscious. He gave a cold smile to Natasha, who had attempted to kneel down to check his pulse. "He's fine. I wouldn't want him dead that quickly." She gave him a look of pure fury.

"Tony Stark." Tony looked up at Loki evenly, despite the large burn on the side of his head.

"I've noticed you've cut off all communications in this room." Tony dropped a communicuff on the floor. "Guess you finally figured that one out." Loki's eyes hardened imperceptibly. "Ah, yes. You and your little underground network. You were quite annoying. But I must thank you for gathering all of the rebels in one place. You made it much easier to kill them all. You were one of the few to survive the bombing, were you not? You and that Miss Potts. I have her here as well. Would you like to see her?"

The skin around Stark's knuckles turned white. "Fuck off," he growled.

Loki tilted his head. "That was rude. I'll be sure to pay Miss Potts a visit soon, because of that." Tony's teeth clenched but he managed not to say anything.

"Bruce Banner." Loki said his name slowly. Bruce didn't even try to stay calm. Trapped inside his cell, he turned, turned back, turned again, and finally reverted back into human form. Loki gave him a cruel smile.

"You are best here, Banner. Where you cannot hurt anybody. Do you know how many people you have killed? How many innocents?"

Bruce transformed into the hulk again and roared.

"I could use you, Banner."

Bruce turned back into human form. "Even as a mindless beast, I wouldn't join you for anything."

Loki pointed his staff at the glass cage. An electric currant rushed through it, a pain so quick Bruce didn't have time to change. He fell to the ground, breathing hard..

"We'll see about that."

"Steve Rogers." Steve was on his knees, his hands and feet tied with metal chains. He looked up at Loki.

"What are you planning to do? The humans will never let themselves be ruled. It was like this long ago, and it has never changed. No matter how cruel, how terrifying, how strong a ruler you are, it won't last. The humans are strong. Someday, somehow, they will come out on top. You can't win."

Out of all of the comments, this seemed to irk Loki the most. He hit Steve once, twice, three times, but the man's penetrating blue eyes still stared straight into his.

"Thor Odinson." Loki's voice echoed, louder then before. He flicked his hand at the chitauri, who grabbed the remaining Avengers and dragged them away. The sound of their struggling faded away along with the echos of Natasha's curses.

"Now it is just you and me, brother," Loki said, ignoring Thor's clenched fist and look of horror. "It is time we talk."

Loki turned and faced the window, pacing back and forth. "Do you remember what you once were? You were better. You were stronger. You wanted to rule and you fought for it. But what are you now? Weak. The sentiment you have to these humans has turned you from a Shining One of Asgard. You are as pitiful as humans now."

"You underestimate them." was all Thor responded with. His hand was slowly crawling out to the side, hoping to call his hammer.

"You think this pitiful Earth can hold a candle against me? It has been two years since I last came here, since I escaped from Asgard. Since I _defeated_ Asgard. They fell beneath me, their city ravaged. I am more then them now. And you believe _Earth_ will defeat me?"

"Yes." Thor's arm was now fully extended, ready to summon his hammer.

"Your monosyllabic answers will not distract me, brother. Call your weapon and the human race will burn." Turning back towards his brother, he hit Thor full in the face with the end of his staff, knocking him to the floor. "I would simply prefer to rule them."

Thor slowly rose to his feet. "Brother, do you not understand? Ruling is not the same as leading. A king will never last if all he does is rule. The humans will rebel. And you will fall. The most admirable thing that I have found about the humans is they never lose hope."

Loki looked at him coldly. "I wonder how much hope you will have left after watching all of your friends die. If these are truly earth's _mightiest_ heroes, what have the humans left to hope for? They will watch their protectors scream and cry and beg for an end. They will see their heroes defeated and broken. Where, might I ask, is the hope that you speak of?"

"You will never understand. The humans, they are not guided by a lust for power or wealth. They are guided by the light at the horizon, the eternal hope that there will be somewhere better. That light that they see… That is what makes the human race special. They will _never give up_."

Loki turned to the window, where pillars of fire and explosions of debris could be seen as the chitauri attacked the civilisation.

"We shall see."


	2. A Man no more Virtuous

_**A Man No More Virtuous **_

"I suppose it is only fitting to have you two die together." Loki paces in front of Clint and I, both in cages suspended above the ground. We are handcuffed to the back of the cages with thick iron manacles. Being treated like a zoo animal is just his way of lording his power over us, I suppose. Still, it's humiliating.

"You mean after we destroyed half of your army?" I say, raising my eyebrows. Anything to keep his attention off Clint. Clint, laying half-dead in his cage. I know, it's the job first. It's always been the job first. But there's something about him that has broken my entire way of living. And it's killing me. It's killing me that I have a weakness. We got together one night, one, perfect night, and after that, he's been a weakness. Knowing that there's something I can't control, can't control what's done to him, can't control how I feel. I must seem heartless, thinking of my care for him that way, but it's true. I care for him more then I ever cared for anything else, and it kills me. No matter the proof, my brain still thinks love is for children.

Maybe we still are just children.

Loki chuckles, breaking me from my thoughts. "Yes, I suppose you did. I must admit, you two were formidable together. The master assassins, forced to play the soldiers."

"I must say, Romanoff, that you are the perfect example. The perfect example of the failure that is the human race. Sentiment. It is why destroying the human race was so _easy_. If you had not come for _him_," he jerked his head towards Clint's still form, "I doubt I would have caught you at all. He tried to stop you, did you know? He tried to contact you to tell you not to come. He knew you would. Didn't work out for him, did it now?"

"Leave him out of this," I spit, then grit my teeth. I can't show weakness, the weakness that is love and care.

Loki's eyes stare into mine.

"Oh, I don't intend to do _that_."

Loki motions to one of the chitauri sentries by the door. It leaves, but returns moments with a small pouch in hand. It speaks to Loki in some strange, chattering language, and hands him the small bag. He shakes out the contents - two small white capsules.

"What are those?" I ask suspiciously. He just smiles and walks towards us. I frantically begin to work my way out of my manacles. He's different this time. I couldn't find anything to latch on to, no superiority or confidence that I could play on.

I try to keep my mouth closed, but he forces the pill into my mouth and covers my nose and jaw, forcing me to take it. I pretend to swallow, keeping the capsule in the corner of my mouth.

"What is this going to do?" I ask. There is nothing I could do to help Clint from taking it, but maybe I could keep myself well enough to help him.

"Swallow it," is his reply.

"I did," I whimper. It won't work. I knew it won't.

He walked over to Clint, who had awoken and was looking around in confusion. Loki held up a pale silver knife.

"Swallow it."

"I did already!" I make my eyes go round, add a break in my voice. But I knew that I couldn't. If he started to hurt Clint, I couldn't. This was why I hated him, why I hated myself. He was my weakness, and everyone knew it.

Loki looks over at me, the knife slowly sliding into the flesh of Clint's cheek. He was fully awake now. _Don't do it,_ his eyes tell me. _It's not worth it_.

I'm sweating. I make a gulping sound, keeping the pill in my cheek. "Okay? I did it. Now stop," I sound like a three year old, slightly hysteric and desperate. "Stop hurting him!"

Loki does not stop. The knife begins to move towards Clint's throat.

I can't stand it, me doing nothing. He is the one person I had ever cared for, had ever cared for me._ It's the job first, the job first, the job first_, I repeated to myself. _Leave him._ _Try to save the earth. Whatever this pill does, it will be worse. _I find myself quoting what Loki had said two years ago. _Saving a man no more virtuous then myself will not change anything. _

"Fine. I'll swallow it. Just leave him alone." I lie, one last time. I pretend to swallow again. The pill is beginning to soften against my cheek.

"I'm not going to come over and make you." Loki's voice is silky. I realise - this is a test. A test he knew I'll lose. He could easily force me, shove it down my throat, but he wanted me to lose, to take it willingly. And in my heart of hearts, I knew I could never continue. I'd failed.

Closing my eyes, I swallow. There is no agonising pain, no strange feeling afterwards. In fact, I feel slightly more alert.

"What will this do to me?" I ask cautiously.

Loki slides his knife out of Clint's cheek and wipes it casually on the bars of our cage.

"It will keep you conscious."

Ignoring our shared looks of horror, Loki begins to pace back and forth. "You see, simply torturing you wouldn't be fitting enough. You two did great damage to my army, not to mention were quite annoying to me. You would protect each other above all else, and that is what made you particularly troublesome."

He turns to face the chitauri guards and speaks a few words in a guttural, chattering language. They open Clint's cage and drag him out, and although now conscious, he is still weak, and his attempts to fight are squashed with a quick blow to the head. They chain him up on the wall and rip off his gag.

"Nat." he whispers. "Whatever they do… Just remember - "

Loki claps his hands, cutting off whatever Clint was going to say. A poker, molten red, and a long silver knife fly off of a table and landed in the chitauri's hands.

Loki turns to face me.

"Every time you look away, we cut off a finger."

No. No. Don't make me do this. I can't.

"Begin."

Hissing and chattering excitedly, the chitauri rip off Clint's shirt. Pulling out the knife, they make a long, deep slice across his stomach. Blood wells around the cut, drenching the floor in scarlet.

No. Please, oh god, no.

A molten red poker cutting a strip across his arm.

I can barely breathe.

Whips opening long red streaks onto his face. He's given up. Screaming.

So am I.

Jagged pieces of glass slowly ripping gashes in his flesh.

I vaguely recognise that I'm crying. I never cry. I have never cried in my whole fucking life. But nothing, no lesson, no teacher, no memory, could ever have prepared me for this.

Barbed wire cutting ruby-red patterns around his throat.

Stop it, I say. Torture me instead. Nobody hears. All of my training, my years of learning how to not care. Falling in love was the most dangerous thing I have ever done. I hate myself. I hate every fucking fibre of my being. I am weak. I am here sobbing and screaming and I'm not even the one being tortured. I can't stop, can't stop screaming, can't stop crying. Looking at this is the hardest thing I've ever done.

Skin being ripped off with ragged black knives.

He screams my name. Over and over. Can't escape, can't slide into darkness.

There's no light in the cell, no windows. I don't know how long we've been here. I'm dimly aware of more pills being forced into my mouth. My skin is raw and ragged from when I've torn at it. Eyelids drooping, can't sleep, can't dream and pretend it's all better. All there is is pain. Pain and fire and screaming and darkness as my heart is ripped open. I hate myself for being weak, for crying. I hate him for making me feel this way. I hate Loki for doing this, for standing calmly and watching.

In the cold of the cell, all I feel is hate.


	3. This is my Bargain

_**This is my Bargain**_

Whenever people describe torture, they say it was all a blur of pain that fades into the haze of memory. I had to feel every cut, every burn, every lash. Whatever that pill did, I had to hear every one of Tasha's screams, and every one of my own. And I have to remember them. Every last detail. Every one of Tasha's tears as she never looked away, never stopped staring at what they were doing to me. It's been weeks. I've mostly healed.

Tasha hasn't.

According to Loki, I was tortured for five days. Five days of no sleep, no peace, just fire and pain and screams and tears. My scars are physical. I closed my eyes and let the pain come, knew it was coming, knew I could't stop it. She had to watch. In some ways, I think what she had to do, what she managed to do, was harder.

I still have all ten fingers.

She never looked away. She screamed and cried and tore at her hair, but her willpower never failed. What she did to protect me… I will never be able to repay her, never be able to match what she sacrificed for me. All I had was pain. We were trained for dealing with torture. It never helped the pain, but it helped you cope. We were never trained to watch someone you care for being ripped apart.

I don't deserve her love.

And I'm afraid. Loki has let us heal, but he's not finished. He would never let us go. I know we're going to end up dead, but I'm scared of how he's going to kill us.

"You awake?" Tasha whispers. She's been different after our ordeal - haunted and quiet. Although some of my old Tash is returning, I'm afraid some things will never heal.

"Yeah," I say back in a hushed voice. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not five. I can take care of myself." she snaps back, then sighs. "Nothing," she says. "It's just… It's been weeks. Why hasn't Loki made his move?"

I look at her. The shadows under her eyes haven't quite disappeared, and there are still scars from where she pulled at her skin, but other then that, she looks almost back to normal.

"I think he's waiting for us to heal so he can torture us better," I say. And I hope, this time, it's not reversed. I could never watch Tasha scream and never look away. "Have you noticed that our injuries are healing faster then normal?" I ask, hoping to cover my lapse in attention. It's true - we're not in as much pain as we should be.

She nods. "I know." We both look at each other, not speaking. Our eyes do the rest.

_I love you._

_ Loki is a fucking monster._

_ Why us?_

The next day, Loki walks in in all magnificence.

"I hope you enjoyed your little break." He smiles.

"Go to hell." Tasha spits. Her trauma has turned into a fierce loathing for Loki.

"Ooh, that was rude. I think you're going to regret that." Loki tilts his head.

"I don't think you can make Tasha regret an insult." I snap back. Me and Nat's tensions are high, and he knows it. Today, he's going to make his move. And something tells me it will somehow be worse then last time.

"I think I can. I'm here to fulfil a promise to you, Natasha Romanoff."

What little colour was left in her face vanished, but she managed to keep her cool. "The same promise that you made when I was _playing_ you?" she states calmly. This is what we were trained for. To lie and trick and hide everything we actually are.

"The same promise I made after you claimed that whatever was between you and Barton wasn't _love_." he says. He looks at us with something not dissimilar to disappointment on his face. "I never got to give you your end of the bargain."

I'm confused. When had Tasha and Loki talked? He'd been in exile since… _oh_. I remember one the old video feeds of SHEILD's heliocarrier. No. Never again. He can't. Loki smiles at me.

"Didn't take much to shake it off last time, though, did it?" We're assassins. We're supposed to be used to this. We're not supposed to be scared, so scared that we can't think straight. We're not supposed to be fazed by lies and promises, forgetting all of our training. We're not supposed to care.

'Not supposed to' doesn't really apply anymore.

He walks over to me. It's over. I can't. I'll fight it. I have to. I try to scramble backwards, escape somehow. I can't ignore it. Can't ignore Tasha staring at me, looking more scared then I have ever seen her in my life. Can't ignore Loki, the smirk on his face the smile of someone who knows he has won. Can't ignore the fear that is filling my mind, scrambling my thoughts, obliterating every single thing I ever learned to prevent this. The last time this had happened… The things I'd done; to Tasha, to SHIELD, to innocent people… I haven't had a restful sleep since.

Loki's staff appears in his hand. I work furiously at my manacles, hoping somehow to escape, to avoid the glowing blue light humming at the end of the silver spear.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. The point of the spear touches my chest.

It's just like last time. An explosion of fire extends outwards from my heart, thrumming with icy energy. I can feel it crawling through my blood, touching each vein, each nerve, each cell. It covers my soul with an ice I can't describe.

_ Obey_. Loki's voice echos in my head. It feels like my mind is being smothered in folds of darkness.

_No_. But the darkness is pressing down on my mind, compressing every essence of my being. The word pain cannot describe the feeling.

_ Obey. _Loki's voice is louder now, speaking to my entire soul.

_ No_. I've trained for this. Think of Tasha. Think of Tasha. The thought of her smile, her laugh, sends a spark through me, a beam of light, lifting the darkness. I can do this.

_OBEY. _The darkness is back, pressing down. Icy sparks leap from the shroud of blackness, hitting my consciousness, running across my thoughts and feelings and memories. And with that, my mind is not my own.

It's been less then a second, the war inside my mind less then the blink of an eye. Loki unlocks my cage and handcuffs before stepping back to enjoy the show.

I feel myself walking over to Tasha's cage. There's hatred for her coursing through my body, but it's not _my_ hatred, it's someone else's. _Fight it. Fight it. _I struggle feebly against Loki's mind, try to break the bars of the prison he has put my soul in. It's different this time. I can still see through my old eyes, hear through my old ears, something else is just controlling them.

"Fight it, Clint. Fight it." Tasha whispers, fear and sadness reflecting in her eyes. "You can do this."

"Oh, can I?" he says, the man who is not me. I'm grabbing her now, pulling her to the wall, chaining her arms and legs. I'm not strong enough. I can't stop. Oh god, I can't stop.

Loki hands me a small white capsule.

I can feel the cold of the knife in my hand. I can see it descend, hear the wind whistling around it.

I can feel the warm spray of her blood as it bites into her arm. She grits her teeth, but does not scream.

I'm screaming. Every part of me is telling me to stop, to throw down the knife and cry. But instead, I can feel the smirk on my face.

The knife descends again, leaving a long, thin slice on her face. She cries out, unable to stop herself. _No. Tasha, I love you. I can't stop… Can't help. You need to… oh god. Please no._

I know what I'm doing. I'm aware of every single thing that this other man does, does to the woman I love.

I can hear her screams as a whip leaves red lashes over her face.

I can smell her blood as her skin is ripped open by long ragged knives.

I can feel her pain as she watches me laugh.

"Remember Budapest?" I slash at her stomach with a long sword. "I didn't kill you. I was supposed to, remember? I wish I had. Would've done the world a favour."

_ Tasha, I love you. I'm sorry. _

"Remember Anna? Little Anna Drakoff? She was seven, and you murdered her. She saw you stealing from the Russian firms, so of _course_ you had to kill her. After all, she was just one person right? One innocent?" Molten red brands leave her skin black and burning.

_ I don't mean it. I can't… I can't stop. Can't fight. _

"What about Sampa? You burned part of it to the ground. And then you ran, to much of a coward to face what you did. The people, the women, the children, they screamed for your help as they burned. And _you ran away_." Blood everywhere, far too much.

_ Don't listen, Tasha. Please, oh god, don't listen. _

"You faked a hospital file so a dying patient wouldn't get the treatment he needed. You see, Natasha? The world would be much better without you." I laugh and hit her in the face. She hasn't spoken this entire time, just looks up at me, at _me_, as tears sparkle in the corner of her eyes. I bring the brand down and she screams.

It's not until her screams have long gone quiet, till I can feel the tears running down my face, that I know I've been released. I can feel the staff pressed against my head, ready to fire, and I don't care.

_I'm sorry_


	4. Out of Time

_**Out of Time**_

Two days ago, I heard Natasha's screams coming from the long, dark hallway. Now, there is nothing. I don't want to think about what Loki might of done to her, or if she's even still alive. I don't want to think about what he's doing to any of my friends. Loki doesn't visit me. Food is delivered in once a day, and I eat it despite the number of drugs Loki has probably pushed into it. I tried at first not to eat, but even as a super soldier there is only so long you can go without food, only so long you can go before you become as frail as a piece of rice paper.

Every day, I pray to God that He will help me. That He will show me a way to escape, to help the people, but He remains quiet. Everything is quiet in this cell, even the Lord.

I've been imprisoned before many times, but never like this. This cell is made of some kind of stone, completely smooth. There's no door; instead, Loki materialises inside, or some kind of meal appears on the floor. It's tiny - only about ten feet long and wide, and there is only a small bench for me to sleep, made of the same polished dark stone.

Like I said, never like this.

Loki appears in my cell for the first time in weeks.

"What did you do to them?" the words escape my mouth before I can stop them. "Natasha and Clint."

Loki throws me a shark-like smile. "I killed them slowly and painfully. Both of them." I don't know what is worse - what he said or how he said it in matter-of-fact manner, like we were discussing it over tea. I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. He could be lying, of course, but something tells me he's not. My friends are dead. The rest of them will probably come next. _Don't cry, don't let him get to me, _I tell myself, but the tears still manage to leak out.

"Mr. Rogers, you're out of time."

Metal cords appear around my wrists, binding them together. Since when could Loki conjure things like that? I pull at the cuffs, but the material isn't anything I've ever seen before; there isn't any sign of breaking or even the smallest give.

Loki flicks his hand, and two chitauri guards appear and grab me by the shoulders. There's a sort of silver glow and something not unlike an electric current crackling through the air, and suddenly we're not where we were before. I look around in confusion. We've appeared in some sort of open-air stage, a theatre perhaps?

That's when I notice the people. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people. Most of their clothing is ripped, their hair lank and unwashed, their fearful faces covered in blood and dirt and tears.

"These are the survivors of the Siege of Chicago." Loki's voice echoes around the theatre, somehow much louder then usual.

Suddenly, I feel the metal ropes binding my hands loosen. I smiled - Loki had made his first mistake. I quickly snap them in half and run towards Loki, grabbing by the neck. "Not so fast," I growled. Loki looked at me and smiled. Suddenly, I felt myself holding air. I whirl around, ready to continue the fight, but Loki is just standing there, only a couple feet away.

"If you try something like that again, these people won't be survivors much longer."

_ No_. I feel my heart sink. I can't do anything to hurt these people. I look around, and that's when I notice the chitauri surrounding the crowd, holding what looks like long electric ropes.

Loki noticed my defeated expression and smiles. He nods to one of the chitauri warriors, who pulls a man out from the crowd. Without hesitation, Loki fires a bolt of blue energy at the mans chest. There's a woman's scream and the sound of a wailing child as the man crumples to the floor.

I whirled around to face Loki, my heart beating fast. "Why did you do that? He didn't do anything! He was innocent!"

Loki grins coldly. "I _will_ make good on my promise, Rodgers. Don't think to try me."

"I'll do anything you want me to. Just don't hurt these people." I'm practically begging now. I fear for what Loki has planned for me, what tortures he has in mind, but I can't let him harm the innocent.

The Asgardian smiles and speaks to one of the chitauri in some strange language, seemingly made of hisses and clicks. The crowd draws back in fear as the monster walks towards it. Chattering excitedly, it grabs a young boy, probably no older then seven. His mother tries to fight it, to hold on to her son, but the chitauri knocks her back with a swift blow to the head.

My fist is clenching. "Don't you _dare_ harm him." I glare at Loki as the chitauri pulls the wailing child up to the stage. Loki's grin grows even wider.

"Oh, Mr. Rogers,_ I _won't be the one harming him."

My heart suddenly feels as if a thousands stones had been dropped on it._ He cannot mean - _

"Mr. Rogers, I want you to kill this child. I want you to kill hom slowly and painfully."

"No." There is no way in _hell_ he could make me do this. "No matter how much you torture me, I will _never_ harm a child."

"Oh, I know, Rogers. You are a remarkably _selfless_ man." He gestures out to the crowd. "If you do not do exactly as I say, _they_ will be the ones who pay the price."

_ No. Please, God, don't let this happen. Show me your guidance, strike me down here, just don't make me do this._

Loki shoves the boy towards me. "Slowly and painfully." he says, triumph flickering in his eyes. He hands me a knife.

"Please don't hurt me, Captain America." the child whimpers. I was probably his hero a while ago, his idol.

_Thousands of people. Oh god, thousands of people._

The wind whistles in my ears as I bring down the knife.

Blood stains my torn outfit, my hands, my face. God doesn't exist. If he did, how could he have let this happen? I did the unthinkable, the ultimate crime, and yet he remained silent. I am dimly aware of Loki speaking, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is my hands, covered in blood, too much blood.

Loki walks over to me and hands me a length of rope.

"Finish it," he whispers. I stare at the cord for a few moments before I understand. Slowly, woodenly, I take the rope from his hands.

There's a stool a few feet from me, and above it a crisscross of iron bars, probably once used to hold up lights or cameras. It doesn't matter now, anyway.

There isn't even a part of my brain that tells me that suicide is a sin, that god will punish me for it. There is no god. There is only shock and pain and horror of what I had done, what I have become. I wish I could say my last moments were filled with noble thoughts, that I thought about the people I had saved as I set the noose around my own neck.

_I bet I'm not anybody's hero now,_ I think grimly as I step off the stool.

_Crack_.


End file.
